Indigo 21
by SilverShadowFin
Summary: An Osean Federation ambassador to Nordennavic was kidnapped. To avoid liability, Nordennavic agreed to allow Osean Maritime Defense Force special forces to carry out the rescue. An OMDF light transport/gunship, callsign Indigo 21, was launched from OFS Andersen with navy commandos on board. In and out. Two-One was a glorified air taxi. Or so the crew thought.
1. Chapter 1

8

"Sure is crappy weather down there, boss."

"Better for us. Intel says they don't have IR sighs or stuff." lieutenant Petra "?" Adler replied.

I looked into the distance through the windshield, over LTJG Merson's shoulder. I smiled and let out a sigh of content.

"What's with the smile, Krissy?" Merson asked and smirked. I wondered how she'd even seen that.

"Call me 'Krissy' again and I might get distracted. You know, press the wrong button, jam the 54-mike." I replied.

The lieutenant laughed. She took a deep breath before commenting.

"You do realize that there were two thing wrong with that threat, _Kristina_? One, it wouldn't matter, because we're not gonna fire a shot, or even see the hostiles. Two, I'd have you back there fixing it yourself, or feeding it manually, if shit really hit the fan." she said and turned in her seat to stick her tongue out to me.

"Bah. Fair, point, ma'am." I said and saluted sarcastically.

"Anyway, time to get serious for a minute, you two. Daphne, run checks on jammers and counter-measures. Sensors should be good but the log said something about a starboard IR transmitter being sticky." the lieutenant continued.

"Awesome. I mean, it's not like that defense system is there for a reason or anything." Daphne scoffed.

"Come on. Five out of six online isn't that bad. And you said it yourself. We're just a glorified air taxi here. Kristina, go though fire control and targeting. Oh, and better check turrets and ammo feed too. Wouldn't want that fifty-four to jam, you know?"

The lieutenant's sunglasses hid her expression but her voice was so calm and cool it practically said 'poker face'. I sighed and turned on the screens in front of me. Daphne was muttering something about taxi drivers being mugged at gunpoint.

The two ultra-wide, curved, 34 inch touch monitors in front of me were brand new and state-of-the-art. Honestly, they made me feel like I was living in Minority Report. The resolution of each display was enough to make full HD feel inadequate. If push came to shove and our commandos needed fire support, I could control both of the 26mm rotary cannons and the 54mm revolver cannon at the same time. Typically, that's exactly what I had to do. Daphne had her hands full with electronic warfare and missile defense. Most of my time was still spent helping our commandos less directly.

I set the weapons system to run self-checks and swung my chair 90 degrees. I tapped a few buttons and turned on the even larger 55 inch monitors on the wall. Most of my job consisted of coordinating the commandos' movements. We had more information and better chances of processing info without distractions so we helped the team leaders by compiling information about their targets, hostile movements, best routes and marksman vantage points among other things. I'd kept the system off for most of the flight. The mission was already clear. Right on cue, Daphne gave us an update.

"We're now northwest of Estovakian islands. It's all Nordennavic air space south of here. Nordennavic Royal Air Force Mjollnir R-40's joining us soon. Bearing 250, 50 nautical miles."

"R-40's? They're sending some serious guns to babysit us." Petra commented.

She had a point. Everything pointed to a small group with no heavy weapons. They wouldn't have fled to the northern islands with the ambassador if they didn't fear an attack. They must have known the Nordennavic government would track them down eventually. A risky maneuver like that only made sense if they didn't have the numbers nor the tools to defend themselves. Something that didn't make sense, though, was first exposing themselves by moving and then "hiding" on an island with less than a hundred inhabitants.

"Those jets are basically for show. No foreign military jets in their national airspace unescorted and all that. The whole thing is a balancing act between sovereignty and risking Nordennavic lives. They want us to get our own ambassador out. If something goes wrong, it's all on us. Diplomatic disaster averted." Petra said.

"I'm surprised they didn't want to score some points with the international community by heroically busting down the door and carrying the ambassador out, unscratched and forever grateful." Daphne said.

"Romanticized images much?" Petra scoffed.

"Hey, I can love romance as much as I want. I'm easily badass enough to make up for it." Daphne said sarcastically.

We all laughed. Petra sent us into a relaxed southward turn and started to descend from our cruise altitude.

"We're 15 minutes from the DZ. Kristina, have the teams get ready. Daphne, I'm not liking the crosswind here. Do we have meteo data of the AO?"

"Affirm, lt. It gets better below eight thousand. It's so calm on the surface the ground teams are basically going for a relaxing swim." Daphne replied.

"Right, in fifty-degree weather." I dryly pointed out just before keying my mic and briefing the teams in the back.

"That's... around plus ten Celsius, right?" Petra asked while I was talking on the mic.

"Well, exactly ten Celsius." I pointed out as soon as I'd released the mic. "Sorry, I forgot. You grew up in Emmeria, right?"

"Just a couple hundred kilometers from Gracemeria. We use the proper measurement system on this side of the pond." she said jokingly. "Dual citizenship, though. My father is a businessman, originally from Oured."

"How did you end up in the Osean Navy and not Emmerian Air Force?" I asked.

Daphne interjected.

"Let me guess. You went to study in Osea and decided to stay after you graduated."

"Hah. That's amazing. You're spot on. Went to college in Bana City. I was in Oured when the Gray Men orchestrated the attack on the airport. I was in November City when the president was attacked. I saw that mystery squadron, Wardog, Demons of Razgriz, fight. I just... knew what I wanted to do. I mean, kicking ass and protecting people? The stories about what Razgriz Two did... Yeah. Plus, you know, Anean Continental War breaking out didn't exactly make me want to go back." Petra reminisced.

"Wow. Talk about a crazy coincidence. Razgriz Two, Kei Nagase, was my inspiration too. And I think we were in Bana around the same time. My mom is a lawyer from Bana City. I studied there too. When you were watching that battle at Apito International, I was in Bana, trying to avoid goddamn poison gas. You were lucky. I spent two weeks in the hospital. Made me want to do my part in keeping that crap from happening again." Daphne opened up.

"We've shared our stories. What's yours, Kristina?" Petra asked.

"Yeah, the new crew bonding talk. Let's all share our stories." Daphne said and laughed.

I laughed and shook my head.

"I'm way less interesting. My dad was an Osean Air Force fighter pilot. My mom was a Navy heli pilot. I loved flying when I was so young most people my age hadn't even been in a plane. In my teens I found out my eyes weren't exactly perfect." I motioned at my glasses. "so following my parents' footsteps, right into the cockpit of a Navy jet, wasn't an option."

"Oh, crap. I'm so sorry." Daphne said.

"I'm not finished. I've logged hundreds and hundreds of hours in aerobatic planes. Six-G Immelmanns don't pay the bills, though, and it was either this or serving drinks to ungrateful tourists and snobby businessmen on commercial jets." I continued.

"I've got a feeling you haven't had to second guess yourself much." Petra said.

"Hah! That's putting it mildly. And hey, I'm still in a cockpit of a plane, even if it's just a prop VTOL transport." I scoffed.

"Four Royal Nordennavic AF R-40's now coming alongside. We're officially a go, ladies." Daphne announced.

"Visual." Petra confirmed.

I brought up the tactical map on my screen. I saw the fighters had their transponders set to transmit their callsign and comms channel. It was a little surprising to see them use a protected channel. Specifically, one that fully supported the latest Osean Defense Force protocols. I pushed the thought aside and ran the usual checks on the data links.

"Data links check out perfectly. I little _too_ perfectly if you ask me. How the hell is their system interfacing with stuff most of our own planes don't have yet?" I wondered out loud.

"Umm... Hello? We bought most of the data link stuff from Macmillan. It was made for Nordennavic AF. The reason they won the contract was because the systems were already in production. Development costs: zero." Daphne pointed out.

"Oh? Umm... I have to admit I didn't know that." I said with an embarrassed laugh.

"Plus, Macmillan tech is some of the best in the world." Petra added.

"Well, thank you, Nordennavic tax payers." I said and laughed. "These things are so easy to use and can do almost anything."

"If you know what you're doing, sure." Daphne said.

Daphne called the fighters. We agreed that the fighter team would stay above six thousand feet, above clouds. We would drop to the deck and skim the waves. The drop point was a few miles from the island. We'd slow down, hover and drop off the commandos. All we could do after that was leave, skimming the waves again, and climb to a holding pattern. I called the teams and ran final comms checks. Daphne was monitoring radar and radio signals as well as weather.

"The weather is beautiful. This'll be a cakewalk for us. Weird radio signals bouncing around here, though. I can't ID them. Could be satellite Internet or something." Daphne pondered.

Petra was taking us down to the drop point.

We were less than a minute away.

"Opening ramp, opening ramp. Stand clear. Opening ramp." I heard Daphne say on the cabin intercom.

I heard a very slight change in the noise around me. The ramp was opening.

"All yours, Kristina." she said.

"Copy." I replied.

For the next few moments I could only wait. Petra extended the flaps and turned the propellers toward the surface. I felt us slowing down. I was using the upper screen behind Daphne's seat for flight data. I saw our speed drop from around 110 knots to zero. The altitude reading held steady at approximately 300 feet until we'd stopped. Then it gently descended to a little under a hundred. Petra was good.

"Green light for jump." Petra said. I saw Daphne tap the 'traffic light' control and watch the rear ramp camera.

A siren sound blared from the cockpit speakers. A saw warning lights flash.

"Emergency jump! Close the ramp asap!" I heard Petra order.

I keyed my mic instantly.

"All units, emergency jump! Emergency jump!"

There was roughly two seconds of charged silence.

"Teams out, ramp closing." Daphne finally said.

The plane turned violently and the nose rose a lot. We were moving backwards and gaining a little altitude.

"Dagger One, Control. What is going on?" came a radio message from the commandos.

"Stand by, Dagger." was all I could say.

"What _is_ going on? Did we stall in hover or what?" I asked, noticeably impatient.

"Seems to be like we're stab- Holy fuck!" Daphne gasped.

I looked at Daphne.

"What the hell? Was that... A missile?!" she exclaimed.

_What?!_

"Take a deep breath, Daph. I need your head in the game. Yeah, that was a missile all right. Arm IR jammers and ECM. Kristina, contact the fighters. Find out if they saw anything." Petra said calmly.

I took a couple of deep breaths myself and selected the fighter team's channel.

"Sølv squadron, Indigo two-one. Do you copy, over?"

"Solv one copies. Please report status. We saw a light that almost looked like a missile, over."

"Solv, Indigo. Under attack. Repeat, under attack. Break, break. The light was a missile, over."

There was a moment of silence.

"Solv One copies. How do we proceed, ov-"

I could head the pilot releasing the mic. Another moment of silence.

"Indigo, Solv! Hostile fighters inbound!"

_What the fuck? There is no way I heard that right._

"Solv One, say again."

"Indigo, Solv. Be adviced, we are engaging four hostile aircraft. Break, Break. Type Nosferatu. Break, break. Nationality unknown, negative markings."

I turned to Petra.

"This is fucked up. We have hostile fighters here. Sølv is now engaging four Nosferatus."

"Wait. Hostile fighters? So it wasn't a SAM?" Daphne asked.

"That one probably was but now we're dealing with more." I replied. "Boss, how do we proceed?"


	2. Chapter 2

7

"Daphne, radar scan. Any ground radars? Do they have our twenty? Is Dagger in danger?" Petra asked.

"Negative ground radars. I think it's safe to say that, yeah, Dagger is in danger. We have goddamn Nosferatus engaging Sølv. That SAM came from somewhere. Requesting nose hot." Daphne replied.

"Green light for nose hot. Let's see what we have down there. Kristina, fire control and targeting ready. I have a feeling we'll have a few boats to sink." Petra said while turning us to a standard two-mile wide circle pattern around Dagger.

Petra took us up, just below the clouds. Daphne activated our radar system. I pointed our targeting sensors toward the area where Dagger was. All I saw was a tightly packed group of eight soldiers in the water. Their two boats were visible with enough accuracy to read the markings in the sides. The new optical sensors were good. Even in the middle of the night I could probably make out enough detail to ID people on the ground. I zoomed out and scanned the thankfully calm waves. There were no heat sources, irregularities or anything else in my view.

"Negative hostiles near Dagger. I'm not seeing any boats inside our pattern." I said.

"Negative surface combatants in range. Scanning fifty klicks in every direction." Daphne said. "That SAM came from one of the islands. The shooter is hiding in ground clutter."

"I'm only using starboard optics. You can use the port side pack to scan the islands." I said.

"Daphne, do it. Double time." Petra ordered.

Petra had good reason to be worried. Our nose was now pointing at the target island and the roughly the direction the SAM came from. At any moment, our port side would be facing the shooter, who'd now had enough time to prep another SAM. We were now between Dagger and the shooter, roughly two miles closer to the shooter's position. Petra knew we'd have a lot less time to shake an incoming missile, at worst as little as five seconds from firing.

"I have something. Boat, on one of the small islands." Daphne called out.

The air in the cockpit electrified. We knew we were facing something a lot more than we'd thought. None of it made sense but our hunch about the whole thing being too easy was definitely proven right.

"Shit. More boats on those islands. Looks an awful lot like a picket line down there. Dagger is heading into an ambush. Calling them now." Daphne continued.

I squinted my eyes and studied every pixel of the video on my screen. If these guys didn't have any boats out coming for Dagger, the team was still well out of danger. Everything looked calm on my area of responsibility.

"Looks like they're betting everything on the island ambush. Sort of smart. A dozen people could overwhelm Dagger if they could take the team by surprise." I pondered.

"Which they won't. Dagger's been warned." Daphne said.

"Nice work, Daph, but don't you think it's too quiet here? Who carries just one SAM?" Petra asked.

"Someone who's got four Nosferatus watching their back." Daphne replied with a tense voice.

"This makes no freaking sense. Don't tell anyone I said this, but those Nosferatus could have forced us to land any time they wanted. They could have blown us to pieces in seconds. Instead they wait until RNAF shows up and challenge the R-40's."

My side screen blinked. A new secure video link opened automatically. I gasped quietly when I realized who I was looking at. We'd been linked directly to a high-level conference call.

"Admiral, Mr. Prime Minister." I greeted.

"Lieutenant, this is Agneta Bjørklund, Nordennavic Minister of Defense." the Prime Minister said.

"This is an honor, ma'am." I said and nodded slowly.

"I do wish the circumstances were better." the Defense Minister replied. "Lieutenant, please put me through to your whole crew."

"Please stand by, ma'am." I replied.

Before I had time to say anything, Petra spoke. She'd of course herd my side of the conversation.

"Did we get a call from their government?"

"Affirm. The Minister of Defense wants to talk to us. Putting her through now." I said before tapping a couple of buttons.

"You're now on with the whole crew, Minister." I said, looking the camera again.

"Ladies, the RNAF squadron escorting you reported the attack and their base got in contact with the government. Your admiral contacted me the moment the ship's mission control saw what was happening to you." the Prime Minister said.

As soon as the Prime Minister finished, Minister Bjørklund spoke up.

"Letting these terrorist run free is in neither country's interests. I am authorizing Osean military units engaged in the rescue of the Osean ambassador to Nordennavic to use any military force necessary to defeat the terrorists. You will have the support of our military units in the area. The whole government stands behind this decision. Naturally, civilian casualties are unacceptable."

"There you have it, Indigo 21. You are cleared to engage confirmed hostile targets in your AO despite being in Nordennav-"

The rest of the admiral's message was drowned out by warning sirens.

"Missile! Hold on!" Petra exclaimed.

"Launcher spotted!" Daphne said, struggling to breathe during the high-G turn.

Suddenly we got a message from Dagger.

"Indigo, Dagger! Requesting fire support! Under attack by mortars!" I heard someone yell. I could hear explosions in the background.

I couldn't do anything for the first couple of seconds. I had to prioritize my actions. Being pinned to the side of my seat and having blood rush to my head didn't help either. I was lifted on up against my seat harness. Petra was diving sharply. For a second, it felt like someone had turned off gravity.

"Kristina, weapons hot! Take out the mortars. Gatlings only. Going in for a strafing run, low and fast. Dahp, try to blind the SAMs."

"Missile trashed. Nice moves, boss. S.P.E.L.L.B.O.U.N.D now online. We can avoid the rest without Petra's aerobatics." Daphne called.

The self protection and electronic warfare system was finally online and we were cleared hot. It was time to go on the offensive. I forgot everything else and focused on the cannons. From inside their bays, they could be fired straight ahead like normal fighter cannons. That wasn't going to be enough this time. I had to be able to turn and aim them. The small cannon bay doors under the wing roots swung open and the Gatling cannons popped out. I set the fire control to semiautomatic, selected six-round bursts at 2400 RPM for both weapons, and started marking targets while we were turning toward the string of islands. I was still marking when the fire control acquired the first targets and trained the cannons on them. The system was fast enough to keep the cannons trained on a target at almost any altitude or speed, even if the target was moving too. By the time Petra had lined us up with the islands, I had all the mortar and SAM positions marked. All of the ones I could see at least. The cannons were tracking the first two targets.

I pressed down two of buttons on the console in front of me. The cannons fire their bursts. A quick tap on buttons next to the firing buttons moved the cannons to the next targets. First the target indicators turned from circles to squares with dotted lines. Then the lines went from dotted to solid. The cannons were locked on. I fired another pair of bursts and went to the next set of targets. It was this easy. I couldn't help wondering the morality of armed conflicts like these. The targeting optics showed nothing on the islands but dust and smoke kicked up by the exploding shells. Sometimes I felt this was too easy. Taking a life. Taking a dozen. All I had to justify it with was the old 'they started it'. They didn't care about our lives. They'd kidnapped a defenseless civilian and tried to blow us out of the sky twice. I pushed down my mic's transmit button.

"Dagger, Indigo. Mortars down. You're clear."

"Dagger copies. Thanks for the assist, Indigo."

A warning siren sounded again. It was a little different from before.

"What now? Didn't we just get the SAMs?" Daphne asked, clearly frustrated.

"Concentrate! Different siren. Radar lock." Petra said.

"Sh-"

Daphne's curse was cut short by a Sølv fighter confirming what we already knew.

"Indigo, Sølv. Hostile fighter bearing one-three-zero, four miles and closing."

"Indigo." was all Petra said to acknowledge the message.

Petra banked starboard, trying to get a sharper angle between us and the hostile. A target moving sideways across their path would be harder to hit, either with a missile or a cannon. I looked at my screens and quickly tapped on an alert popup on the upper corner of one. The targeting optics on my side requested data from S.P.E.L.L.B.O.U.N.D and turned to the fighter, now on our two o'clock. My rangefinder was, thankfully, set to passive stereoscopic. A couple more taps on the screen. The hostile, now passing from our 3 o'clock to 4 o'clock, had no idea what I'd just done. The starboard cannon swung to line up with the target. Petra's sharp turn had worked. The hostile was closing fast. I'd just set the cannon to a half-second, 20-round burst when I saw a flash.

"Missile." was all I said as I pressed on the trigger button. For a second, nothing happened. Then I saw explosions surround the Nosferatu. Pieces of metal, or more likely polymer composite, were flying away from the plane. Flames shot up from the damaged fuselage. The plane turned violently and its nose dropped. I had no idea if the pilot was still alive or able to eject. At that moment I didn't care. What I felt, I'd described as determination to anyone who asked. The truth was, it was anger. They'd tried to shoot us down three times already. The missile could rip us to shreds, have us die in an onboard fire or drown trying to escape the sinking plane. In my mind, they deserved to suffer. I hoped the pilot could eject, just so he could live with the injuries. It had nothing to do with justice or teaching them a lesson. I simply enjoyed the thought of these terrorists suffering.

"Wow. Nice one, Krissy. Hostile splashed." Daphne said.

_Sure, this is a sport to you, right? You do realize we don't have ejection seats? Even if it's a tie, we lose. Our lives, that is._

"Missile still active." Petra said.

I turned my attention back to my screen.

"The trajectory is a mess. The fins must be damaged." I said, looking at the zigzagging smoke trail behind the missile.

"The nose isn't even pointed at us. It's going to miss by a mile, literally." I continued dryly.

Without any warning, the missile turned into a cloud of fire and smoke.

"Missile detonated in midair. Probably a self-destruct after it lost control." Daphne said.

"Sølv, Indigo two-one. Confirm picture clear." I heard Petra call on the radio.

"Indigo, Sølv. Affirmative. The jet you trashed was the last one. Picture is clear."

"Indigo."

"Looks like you were right, Kristina. They bet everything on the island ambush. One gun run took care of it. I'm not seeing anything on the surface." Daphne said.

"I'm heading straight for the target. Weapons ready just in case. Let's try to confirm where the ambassador is." Petra said.

"What makes you think they haven't killed him? They knew were coming before we even dropped off Dagger." Daphne asked.

"That's why we need to locate him, now."


End file.
